


Splintered Heart

by Sylanna



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Nirnaeth Arnoediad, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27609511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylanna/pseuds/Sylanna
Summary: Hearts are a tangible thing. One gives and receives parts in exchange. An elf without a heart will fade. Two months before what will become know as the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, Fingon gives his whole heart to Maedhros.
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	Splintered Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tale I heard a long time ago. This is a much sadder take on the premise.  
> For those interested, I will give a short summery of the tale at the end of the fic.

Hearts are a tangible thing. One gives a part of himself and receives in return. Elves can give piece freely and intentional, more often the gift is unknown until the part is already integrated into one’s own heart. Married couples exchange their hearts.

Hearts can be destroyed by evil and intentional harm. One can give too much of oneself and an elf without a heart will fade after some years.

Maedhros keeps his heart close to himself. Now, after Thangorodrim, it is scarred and he doubts anyone would willingly accept a piece of it anyway. The last shard he gave away was to Fingon, a way of thanking him for the rescue. He would have given much more, for he loves Fingon, but he finds himself unable to do so. Maedhros’ heart remains his own for centuries.

Fingon shares his love with many, sharing his heart freely with his father, siblings and cousins. Most of his heart belongs to Maedhros though. For a long time he doesn’t realize Maedhros is one of the few ones who gave a piece of his own heart in return. Himring is his favourite place to visit.

And then he becomes High King and the strain intensifies.

In the wake of their alliance, Fingon manages to visit Himring two months before the battle. He is glad for the short break, but he fears what has to come. He is so tired and feels weak, his heart already cracking and threatening to fall to pieces. He knows what he has to do for the sake of the alliance.

Maedhros stares at the heart Fingon is showing him. It’s glowing weakly and there are cracks all along the surface. This can’t be Fingon’s. Fingon, who has been so bright and joyful during all these years, who Maedhros likes to think of as a beacon. His light is beginning to fade.

The Lord of Himring does not deny the one he secretly loves the one wish he voices. To be held until asleep, once again like they did in their youth.

The morning comes and Maedhros wakes up alone in his room. Gone is the heat of Fingon’s skin. The High King is gone. It is late already.

On the table, abandoned, lies something wrapped in the tunic Fingon had worn the night before and in Maedhros’ mind a terrible thought begins to form. He jumps out of bed and steps to the item left behind. It is not only the package, laying on his desk, it is also a letter. He ignores the envelope and carefully unwraps the parcel.

Maedhros stands in his room in the cold morning light, holding Fingon’s heart in his hands. It is glimmering silver and small. Far to small to be healthy. The words exchanged the night before echoed still in the ether. Fingon has given much of himself during the kingship and has received less. He had whispered of being tired, of wanting to just-not-feel.

With giving the remnants of his heart to Maedhros, he achieved the latter.

Maedhros races down the steps of Himring, running out into the snow in hopes if catching Fingon. Leaving ones heart is a death sentence for long. He knows Fingon has been near to fading, but this is giving up. The running has no use. The entourage of the High King is long out of sight, having ridden away in the first light of the morning. His steward pulls Maedhros away from the stables, insisting their Lord must stay until the battle against the enemy is to come.

He finally reads the letter.

The High King has left Himring in the night, riding to the capital. The Lord of the cold castle will not be able to follow until it is time for the battle. Until then, the heart will be safe and the king will be able to rule, with a calm mind.

Maedhros puts Fingon’s heart next to his own, trying to keep his beloved alive until they can meet again.

Fingon rides out into the battle that will become known as the Nirneath Arnoediad without fear, without passion or rage. He is cold logic these days and he knows some of his closest companions have been wondering about the change in him. Nobody knows he left his heart with the only one he trusts to keep it from harm.

The strategy is sound and at first everything goes according to plan. From afar, the roar of a balrog can be heard and Fingon charges.

Caranthir’s forces are delayed and the plan falls to pieces. Suddenly Maedhros finds himself surrounded by the enemy and has to order his forces to retreat. He has not seen Fingon in the chaos around him and he looks around frantically.

The small heart he keeps in his chest suddenly splinters. Silvery shards fall. The High King is dead.

Maedhros doubles over and it is Maglor who carries him away from the battlefield.

Maedhros keeps the shards of Fingon with him, but from time to time, one vanishes. He never tells Maglor about the two splintered hearts he keeps tucked away in his chest.

There are only a few shards left when they take in the peredhel twins.

Two shards are left when they sent the children to Gil-galad.

One shard of Fingon is left the day Maedhros leads Maglor in the camp where the two remaining silmaril lie. He barely knows anymore what he his doing by then. Grief is all he has known for centuries.

The last shard burns away at the touch of the silmaril.

Somehow they make it out of the camp and Maedhros is for once honest with his younger brother. He whispers how he can’t go on anymore, how he wishes it to be finally over. How he wishes to fade, but can’t. How he is ready to take his chances in giving the stone to Arda and renouncing the oath. He apologizes to Maglor and gives him a shard of his own heart. Maglor embraces him and promises to never forget.

The is nothing left for Maedhros, the heart of Fingon has left him for his sins. He stares into the abyss of fire and lets go.

Fingon is reborn the day Maedhros dies, with his heart fully returned to it’s rightful place. His heart is not of it’s previous silvery glow. If he looks closely, there is a red shimmer in it’s reflection.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and Comments are always highly appreciated!
> 
> As promised, a synopsis of the tale, as far as I can remember:  
> A young man was showing his heart to the crowd one day. His heart was smooth, untouched and beautiful. Everyone was surprised and awed. They agreed the heart is a work of art.  
> An old person stepped forward and showed their own heart. There were piece missing and other grafted in. They spoke "See, I shared my heart with others, sometimes I got hurt, sometimes I got something back and all of it became part of me." And indeed, their heart showed their friends and family, their passions and fiends. And the crowd saw it was beautiful.


End file.
